Blade's Honor (Ishtar's Legacy Book 2)

by Lisa Blackwood

  “You worry too much—”

  She smacked him on the shoulder. “I wonder why that is?”

  Kuwari had the decency to look abashed. “I knew no danger would touch me tonight.”

  Ah. He’d seen this visit in one of his visions. “Then you also should have expected the floor and the knife.”

  A sheepish look crossed his face as a pinkish hue darkened his cheeks. Her brow arched up in surprise. She couldn’t ever recall him blushing. Not even the time when an overeager daughter of the nobility caught him at his bath.

  But her words caused him to blush? Why?

  Ah…oh! He had seen what would occur. He could have outmaneuvered her had he wanted. Apparently, he hadn’t wanted to change that outcome.

  She’d thought she had put this particular issue to rest two years ago on one of Kuwari’s other unauthorized visits. Just what she could do to dissuade him without hurting his feelings was unclear.

  And, if he decided to turn the full force of his charm upon her, she doubted she would fare better than any other woman would. Kuwari shared his father’s looks. But he also shared his generous soul. Looks she could withstand easily enough. Bravery, kindness, and intelligence added to the mix was something else far deadlier.

  Love was a seductive call, a distraction she couldn’t afford. And distractions were too easily exploited by assassins.

  Even though she was his Blade—a Goddess ordained guardian of the royal line—Enkara believed Kuwari’s parents would prefer if he took a mate from one of the ruling houses to help stabilize his future kingdom. Certainly, the council would expect that. The king had kept his council ignorant of Enkara’s true identity for her own protection until she was fully trained, and the Goddess had claimed her and awakened her full power.

  As for herself, she’d never forgotten that she was born of a disgraced house plagued with traitors. And as much as she’d loved her mother, that long-dead human woman had been a servant, not a noble lady. Only half gryphon, not able to shapeshift, and born of a traitorous line.

  In no way was she a good candidate for Kuwari’s future mate.

  But how to persuade him that she wasn’t a candidate for courtship without crushing what she loved most about him? Kuwari saved her from having to come up with an immediate solution to that problem by starting to pace in the narrow confines of her tent.

  The restlessness was another trait he’d inherited from his father. A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered a sixteen-year-old Kuwari pacing and fretting like this four years ago when Burrukan had said Enkara would need to go to Susa to finish her training as tradition dictated.

  He’d survived the four years without her at his side; he’d survive having her reject any future advances on his part. She’d just have to be strong and reject Kuwari’s overtures.

  Might as well get it over with. “Not that I haven’t missed you, but you can’t keep doing this. It’s not appropriate.”

  “I don’t care about appropriate. I’m trying to avoid an unwanted future,” Kuwari said as he turned. Grinning at her, he took two long paces and sat on her sleeping pallet as if it was the finest of furniture.

  “That tells me absolutely nothing.”

  He shrugged, drawing her gaze to the flex and bunch of his broad, muscular shoulders.

  Stop that, she scolded herself.

  “I saw a vision of someone slipping something in my goblet during a feast. I decided since the nearest feast is my name day celebration in twelve days, it would be best to come collect my Blade and have her at my side.”

  A shiver of horror slithered down Enkara’s spine. Before she’d thoroughly thought out a plan of action, she’d snatched up her sword and was belting the harness around her waist. “Why hasn’t Burrukan come to retrieve me? I only agreed to come and train on Susa as long as you were safe. At the first sign of trouble, Burrukan was to come immediately and deliver me back to Nineveh.”

  After a long pause, Kuwari cleared his throat and glanced down at his hands. “It’s not that kind of danger.”

  “What do you mean? If you saw an assassin…” She unsheathed one of her daggers.

  Kuwari chuckled. “My Blade might want to dress before she goes charging off to slay my enemies. Besides, it wasn’t an assassin I saw in the jumbled-up flashes of fragmented visions. There’s not going to be an attempt on my life. More like an attempt at the throne by way of becoming my mate.”

  Enkara’s hand froze on her harness’s buckle. “Are you saying someone is going to try to use the sacred fertility rite elixir to force a mating?”

  While she was half human and wasn’t yet sure if she would possess some of the other advantages and disadvantages that came with being a full-blooded gryphon, Kuwari was pure stock. If someone managed to drug him, there was a chance that he’d be forced to take a mate out of necessity rather than love. The council might not give him a choice. His survival was linked to the survival of all the gryphons. Whatever female was chosen to be matched to the drugged prince would become his mate and future queen.

  Kuwari shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time in the history of the gryphon kingdom that such a thing has been tried.”

  “By the gods! I’ll hunt down and kill the ones behind this newest threat before they can get close enough to catch your scent. I’ll make them regret even thinking of subverting your will. I’ll—”

  “You know it is never as easy as that. When it comes to the council and the ruling body of New Sumer, you never truly know friend from ambitious noble. And my vision only showed a hand pouring a liquid from a vial into my cup.”

  “Male or female?”

  “Female. So that only leaves half the population of New Sumer.” Kuwari sighed. “For once I wish the gods would just come out and clearly state what they want us to do.”

  Enkara grunted her agreement. Mortals, both human and gryphons, offered up too much entertainment for the gods to make things easy.

  “Even if the gods showed me a clear vision of whoever is behind this attempt, there will always be someone else scheming to merge their bloodline to that of the royal line for the power and privilege.”

  She flopped down on the bed next to him as she realized what he said was true. She’d seen it firsthand more than once, hadn’t she? Since Kuwari’s first flush of manhood, nobles had been instructing their daughters on how best to catch the young prince’s eye. Some had fewer scruples than others.

  Kuwari wouldn’t be safe until he finally fell in love and took a mate. That unknown woman would become his future queen and co-ruler, aiding with the governing of New Sumer.

  “There is only one way to completely safeguard against future attempts of this nature.” He glanced sidelong at her and then down at his hand where it rested on his thigh. Slowly he lifted his hand and slid it along the sleeping pallet until his fingers closed over hers.

  Enkara didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even breathe, although she knew she should say something. Or do something. Stand up. Walk away. Something.

  He gave her fingers a squeeze. Nothing else. Enkara drew a deep breath. “Kuwari, you should know if you’re—”

  “One day, far in the future when the throne comes to me, I would very much like for you to rule by my side.”

  “You’re too young to know where your heart will lead. There’s plenty of time—”

  “Actually, there isn’t as much time as one might think if my visions are accurate.” Kuwari’s tone softened. “Besides, I’m a gryphon. I know my heart already.”

  “Yes. Yes. But nothing is set in stone.” Enkara stared at the slight flutter of the drab brown tent wall in front of her. If she didn’t weaken toward Kuwari and grant him what he was asking, he’d be free to find true love and a more appropriate mate elsewhere. As for others trying to force his hand, she would see to it that no one was ever given the opportunity to trap the prince.

  Not even herself.

  Their bond forged out of shared childhood horrors transcended the
ordinary bonds of love and friendship. She could and would love him completely—as his Blade, not his mate.

  “You still have time to find a suitable mate to rule at your side. There’s no rush. You’re still only nineteen.”

  Kuwari laughed. “In twelve days, I’ll turn twenty and become Crown Prince over all the city-states and receive my first true responsibilities. With that comes many demands from the Council. One of the first things they’ll expect is some hint at my choice of a mate and future queen.”

  At the nervous thrill in his voice, Enkara glanced sidelong at him again. “The Council may have sharp teeth, but they can’t force you into doing something you don’t want.”

  “Oh, my innocent Blade,” Kuwari said as he reached out to cup her cheek. “The council members always find ways to twist a situation to their liking.”

  “Still, they can’t force a mate on you unless they try unscrupulous methods and if they do, they’ll find themselves, and their ambitions delivered swiftly to the underworld.”

  “A Blade’s point of view is always so refreshing. Mother Iltani is the same way.” Kuwari turned one of his most beguiling smiles upon her.

  His look made her heart skip a beat. She steeled herself for what she sensed was coming next. She could withstand almost any opponent. But Kuwari’s charm could slay a female of any age.

  “Truth be told, I’d much rather savor a long, slow courtship and win your love, but I am not sure if I’ll be given the time.” Kuwari’s hand dropped from her cheek to rest on her leg, just above the knee. “If you would agree to a year of courtship, it would do much to put my mind at ease and dissuade many of the nobles with eyes on the throne. And soon all will know you are Ishtar’s Blade—my Blade.”

  His voice dropped at the last, coming out in a seductive purr as he gave her leg a caress. He leaned closer, closing the distance between them.

  “Kuwari, no.” Enkara planted a hand on his shoulder and blocked him from reaching his destination.

  He froze, a chagrined look crossing his face. She hadn’t missed the flash of pain that had proceeded it, either.

  “I’m sorry Kuwari. I would never willingly cause you pain, but I know my duty, and it also includes protecting you from yourself.” She covered his hand with hers, their fingers interlacing for a moment before she pushed his hand off her thigh and anchored it to the pallet between them so he wouldn’t attempt a second touch. “That you might feel infatuated is only natural. It will fade in time.”

  She could still feel the phantom heat on her leg from where his palm had rested only a moment ago.

  “Ah. The hard way it is, then.” Wry humor touched his words and that now familiar determined look was back in his eye. “The goddess rewards those with the greatest patience.”

  Enkara didn’t know what he was planning, but she had a few ideas, none of them good for her peace of mind.

  Kuwari’s chuckle filled the small tent’s interior. “Besides, if I guessed the day and timing of my vision correctly, Burrukan and my guards would only have interrupted at the best part.”

  He’d seen something between them? Heat rushed up her cheeks at his surprising words. As much as she really shouldn’t want to know more about this vision—

  “Kuwari,” she growled, putting a fierce note in her voice. “You’re jesting just to see if you can get a rise out of me, aren’t you?”

  The prince shrugged, attempting to look all innocent and blameless. Right. That was another trait he shared with his father. Those two could dupe even the most skeptical of councilors with that look.

  She snorted. “I thought we didn’t lie to each other?”

  Kuwari grinned. “I’m not. But not all my visions come to pass. This one was weaker than most, just a distant and blurry possibility. I could share the details of this particular vision if that would help…”

  “No! Thank you, my Prince, but no.”

  “Ah. Very well then, but don’t complain later that I didn’t share.” He had the nerve to grin again. “But you should probably get dressed and gather your weapons. Burrukan and my bodyguards will be along shortly. You should be ready to leave. Once I tell Burrukan about the earlier vision, the one with someone slipping something into my drink, he’ll agree that you should return to Nineveh with me.”

  “Of course, I’ll come. I just wish Ishtar would awaken my mark.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, feeling the slightly rough skin of her tattoo-like birthmark. The sooner she had control of her full powers, the better.

  “Ishtar will wake your power soon, and we will perform the first of the blooding ceremonies within a moon’s cycle.” He flashed her a grin. “If Burrukan complains about your training, he can finish that on Nineveh.”

  Enkara nodded sharply. Her duty was to protect the prince, and she couldn’t do that on Susa.

  She left Kuwari sitting on her sleeping pallet and gathered her linen shirt, leather vest and leggings. On the training island of Susa, she wasn’t required to dress in the knee-length robes that fully trained Shadows wore, nor did she have to wear the ceremonial skirt of veils that Ishtar preferred her Blades adorn themselves in—not yet at least.

  She’d worry about that later. For now, she was more concerned with being presentable when her likely-to-be-livid mentor showed up with twenty equally perturbed Shadows hunting for their errant prince.

  “You realize Burrukan is going to drag your royal ass down to the training fields over this stunt, right?” Enkara said as she pulled on her undergarments and leather pants. “Then he’s going to bring me into the ring to reinforce his lesson.”

  “Won’t be the first time. Besides, it will be worth it to have you in Nineveh again. These last three and a half years have been…lonely. Our mental link, letters, and a few visits aren’t the same as crossing swords with you in a sand ring or sitting in front of a fire, sipping wine and discussing the newest political intrigues.”

  “Hmmm. The joys of court life. I’ve missed you, your parents, and younger sisters and brothers, and even many of the Shadows, but the council members and the rest of the nobility? Not in the least. But I have missed spending time with you just talking.” Enkara turned her back on the prince and pulled her sleeping shift over her head and tossed it into a corner, then grabbed up the band of fabric she used to bind her breasts during training sessions.

  She was just tucking the knot and loose ends between her cleavage when Kuwari cleared his throat. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was holding out her linen shirt and leather vest. The prince’s gaze was locked on to a portion of tent wall above her head, but there was an impish slant to his lips that hadn’t been there before.

  Shaking her head, she pulled on the shirt and then the vest, still lacing it as she met Kuwari’s gaze. “Thank you for coming and notifying me of this new danger to you.”

  With that she turned and ducked out of her small tent, leaving a flustered Kuwari sitting on her sleeping pallet, naked but for her blanket wrapped around his waist. She knew many of the noble ladies of the court would kill to be in her place. Yet nothing had happened. Nothing could ever happen. Not unless the gods claimed her and Kuwari during the spring fertility rite.

  Though Ishtar and the harvest god, Tammuz, didn’t bless every monarch and Blade with such a distinction. Sometimes Blades were merely there for protection and as a military leader in times of war. In other, more peaceful times, Blades were born to help a monarch govern the vast city-states.

  Since Ishtar and Tammuz had King Ditanu and Queen Iltani to perform the Sacred Marriage during the spring rites, Enkara doubted they’d need her and Kuwari. If she was to go by the chaotic fragments of the future Kuwari saw in his visions and shared with her, she thought it much more likely she was his war leader. That role suited her much better.

  Though, after Ditanu and Iltani put down the coup planned by the traitorous governor of Kalhu and liberated Enkara and the other prisoners more than sixteen years ago, things had been quiet, and Kuwari might not need her
as a war leader for many, many years to come, if they were lucky. Unfortunately, his visions usually offered little or no context of when they’d occur, much to the prince’s displeasure.

  That left helping with governance. Which, if Enkara was truthful with herself, terrified her. Since she’d spent the first nine years of her life confined in a dungeon, Kuwari’s education and social skills far outstripped hers.

  Even after being freed, the long days of training with Burrukan to prepare her to become a Blade hadn’t left enough time for studying statecraft. She knew she hadn’t mastered all the skills needed to aid in running a kingdom.

  The thought of daily interactions with nobles or, goddess forbid, the council, set her heart pounding. Nine years in a cell had damaged her in ways she wasn’t sure if she’d ever overcome, but she desperately needed to hide any hint of weakness from the blood-thirsty courtiers.

  Even the lowest born noble lady would have a level of education Enkara lacked. At first, she’d consoled herself with the knowledge that once she was a fully trained Blade, she’d have time then to master the predator-filled waters of New Sumer’s court. But after three and a half years of training, she felt no more confident with her social skills than when she’d first come to Susa.

  And if the gods happened to choose her and Kuwari for the Sacred Marriage?

  She knew her duty, but the thought of one day becoming Kuwari’s Queen gave her night-terrors. It had nothing to do with Kuwari, and everything to do with his title and the scrutiny that would come with it.

  Secretly, if Kuwari wasn’t the heir, she might have allowed him to court her and then in a few years when he’d matured enough to be sure of his own heart and mind, and she’d mastered her own fears and inadequacies, she wouldn’t be averse to becoming his mate.

  But that was a foolish dream. Kuwari was the Crown Prince, and she was very ill-suited to be a queen. A war leader though, that she was born for. Battle tactics, troop placement, Burrukan had drilled every bit of his knowledge into her.